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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29012337">Mending</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening'>Fierceawakening</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Transformers Generation One</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Light BDSM, M/M, MegaStar Week 2021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:47:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,000</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29012337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fierceawakening/pseuds/Fierceawakening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Megastar Week Day 2. Prompt was Battle Damage. Have Megatron tending to a grumpy Seeker.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Megatron/Starscream (Transformers)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MegaStar Week 2021 Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mending</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on now,” said Megatron, his voice calm and lulling. “Let me look at you.” He put a hand on Starscream’s shoulder and pushed, trying to gently turn the Seeker over.</p><p>A shrieking whine from Starscream’s vocalizer stopped him.</p><p>“You’re injured,” Megatron remarked.</p><p>“I’m fine,” Starscream yowled at him. “Just because I don’t want you pawing at me every moment does not mean I’ve suffered a fatal wound to the spark.”</p><p>Megatron huffed and tightened his grip on Starscream’s shoulder. “And here I figured you’d enjoy being made over.”</p><p>“Made over? You mean having a huge mech built for battle and strength grabbing at me and hauling me all around? I don’t think so.”</p><p>“I mean tending to your damage, fool, as a mech who’s built for flight. Your plating is delicate, and those Autobots—”</p><p>“You think I can’t handle a few dents from Autobot servos? Really, Megatron!”</p><p>Megatron huffed and turned him over. He’d thought Starscream might resist, but the light, lithe frame moved where he guided. His engines rumbled. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this new Starscream that kissed him instead of wanting to kill him—or, maybe, <em>both</em> kissed him <em>and</em> wanted to kill him?—but being able to put his servos on him for more than correction felt nice, and Starscream going along with it, well…</p><p>Starscream’s optics blazed ruby when Megatron flipped him over, but if he’d expected the intensity he’d seen when Starscream had wanted a kiss, he could only sigh with disappointment. Starscream was scowling as if Megatron had just made the stupidest decision he’d ever heard and he just had to let all of High Command know it, as loudly as possible.</p><p>But why this might be, Megatron found baffling as ever. Starscream’s pretty plating was scuffed here and there, dented in a few places. His paint was scratched, and silvery metal winked beneath, glittering. A few of the deeper bangs and dents glowed with drops of shining energon.</p><p>It certainly didn’t make Starscream any <em>less </em>fetching, if that’s what he was…</p><p>“Primus,” Megatron groaned, and turned away to sort through some tubes of nanite gel. Completely unnecessarily, really. The Autobots were big-framed and heavy like Megatron and could have done some real damage if they’d managed to catch Starscream—but they would have had to catch him first, Any one of these nanite salves would do for a few scratches and dents.</p><p>“Is there a <em>problem, </em>mighty one?” Starscream taunted, acid in his high voice.</p><p>Megatron huffed again and turned back to him with a scowl of his own. “You didn’t want me to see you damaged, and then you got angry that I wasn’t looking at you?”</p><p>A scoffing noise. “Well, Lord Megatron, it shouldn’t be surprising, considering you have no idea how to properly do either one.”</p><p> </p><p>Megatron looked at him. Slowly, carefully. His gaze traced the delicate points of his feet. The sweep of his legs. The bright red of his hip plating, and the contrasting white of his abdomen. The red plating of his torso, the circles of his fans. The sweep of his wings. The black of his helm and the dusky gray of his faceplates, the light of his red optics bright against them.</p><p>Starscream smirked. The angry red of his optics dimmed to a low smolder. “It doesn’t bother you that those Autobots scuffed up my finish at all, does it?” He tilted his hips and shifted his legs, shimmying just enough for the movement to show off his sleek design.</p><p>His vocalizer emitted a little happy trill. “But then, I don’t guess it would, not when you spent half your life getting torn half to scrap in the pits of Kaon.”</p><p>“No, Starscream,” Megatron said, fixing his gaze on a scratch on one of Starscream’s wings. Dirt clouded the pure white of Starscream’s paint, but amid the ugly mark winked the bright silver of Starscream’s metal. “It doesn’t bother me that you’re scratched up. I want warriors, not polished princelings.”</p><p>“Then why are you frowning? You’re staring at me like you’ve never seen a mech before, and that’s good.” His smirk deepened. “But you’re scowling like you’re disappointed. Like you’re going to tell me off for failing you or something.”</p><p>“I’m not irritated with you, Starscream,” Megatron said, picking up one of the tubes of nanite gel. “For once in my very long function, it’s not you who vexes me.”</p><p>Starscream chuckled, apparently hiding relief. “Well then, mighty leader, what’s bothering you? We got away with most of the energon, the Autobots barely touched me, and they don’t know what we’re up to. I’m supposed to be the moody one. What’s going on?”</p><p>“I’m angry that the Autobots did this to you.”</p><p>Starscream’s optics flickered. “You just finished saying that you like me scuffed up. That it makes me warrior enough for you, or such silly nonsense…”</p><p>Megatron lowered his gel-coated fingers to a scratch on Starscream’s side. Starscream purred at the cool relief of the gel, squirming in a way that Megatron couldn’t believe he’d never noticed before now. Megatron’s cooling fans roared, and once he got used to their noise he could hear the higher sound of Starscream’s underneath it. Grinning, he slid his fingers down toward the next mark.</p><p>“I’m angry that someone left marks on you, Starscream,” Megatron said, looking down at his work with a harsh little smile. “But I’m not angry that you’re damaged.”</p><p>“Then what are you--?”</p><p>“I’m angry,” Megatron finished, his engines rumbling in an unmistakable purr, “that someone else left these marks on you instead of me.”</p><p>A squeak from Starscream’s vocalizer. High and loud and a little like the first one, except less sharp in Megatron’s audio receptors. Megatron looked up. Had he said too much?</p><p>Starscream’s optics met Megatron’s and brightened. His lip plates curled into a smirk.</p><p>“Well then,” he said. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for this damage to heal up and start from there.”</p>
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